


Knives, blood, and the human body

by Nelja-in-English (Nelja)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bloodplay, Community: ladiesbingo, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), F/F, Knives, Loss of Humanity, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21885496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelja/pseuds/Nelja-in-English
Summary: Helen helps Melanie with anger management.
Relationships: Helen/Melanie King, The Slaughter/Melanie King
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62
Collections: Ladies Bingo 2019





	Knives, blood, and the human body

There comes a time where Melanie has blood everywhere, someone else's blood in her eyes, her own blood beating in her ears like the most beautiful music, it doesn’t feel different. She loves the violence and fury as much as she loves her own soul, and sometimes she thinks it's the same thing, that she _is_ the stabbing and the blood and the fear, the power of the knives that appear as if by magic in her hand. 

Sometimes she feels it's not exactly the same. But it could be, soon. 

She feels a presence behind her. She throws three knives she didn't know she had, and only then turns back.

"Basira told me you were here," Helen's voice says. "I can understand why she didn't want to go herself."

Melanie can see the handles of the knives sticking out of Helen's body. Part of her wants to apologize and part of her wants to complain that Helen isn't bleeding, doesn't even look hurt.

"Do you want them back?" Helen asks. She's still wearing her incongruous pant suit; it would almost make her look human without the switching patterns on it, spirals that take your mind into a tornado.

"I want blood," Melanie answers honestly.

Helen smiles. "Yes, that's what you are."

She comes close to Melanie and she kisses her.

Her lips feel weird, like Melanie could enter into them, instead of just pressing against them. Melanie tries to find some solid hold on them, tries to bite, but they just open under her teeth, and under them there is emptiness and a tingly feeling that makes her skin fizz.

"I no longer have a body, or if I have, it is not this one," Helen comments. "But don't worry, I will give you blood."

And her hands are framing Melanie's face, and her claws are digging into her face, under her skin.

Helen could very easily kill her. But she doesn't, and the blood running down Melanie’s cheeks, like tears no longer can, makes her vibrate. It was always about this too. Violence against others, others being violent against you, not out of hate, but in communion. She wanted this. She needed this.

That's why when she thinks about how she could take new knives and cut off Helen's hands, that it would be satisfying even if it wouldn't bleed, she doesn't. She just kisses her harder, gets closer. One of Helen's hands slides against her neck. Melanie can feel her own jugular pulse, but it's not there that Helen cuts her. It's a small, superficial one, a sharp pain full of delight.

"You are the blood," Helen says. And then she adds, like a joke, "Look, you have so much of it inside of you! But I'm so good at making people something that they are not."

Her sharp hands are now totally circling Melanie's body, making her clothes fall to the floor in shreds. Every touch makes her shiver in pleasure, every drop of blood it draws, on her back, her waist, her breasts. When one of those hands goes between her legs, Melanie almost freezes in anticipation and fear.

She briefly thinks about how it would feel to be cut deep inside her. Just thinking about it makes her dripping wet. It would be the best orgasm of her life, the worst pain, and Melanie would cut Helen into helical slices and never come back from this.

"No, please!" she moans.

"I thought so," Helen answers. And then her hands go to the outside of Melanie's thighs instead. Helen is kneeling in front of her, or rather she's going lower while still standing, distorting, fluid like jelly. She's still gripping Melanie's ass, making it bleed, and at the same time she's kissing her clit with this dizzying, electric feeling of the whole of reality vibrating.

Melanie comes, her legs wobbling, and slowly falls to the floor. She's feeling so good, and it was not anger. It could have been, but it wasn't. She's just thankful.

"Can I... you know, reciprocate?" Melanie asks. She's already stroking Helen's ankle while meeting her gaze, for the sensuality of it, but she's not sure it's doing anything to her. She doesn't have a real body.

"Take your knives back?" Helen suggests with a too-wide smile. Melanie does, and Helen emits a vibrating moan, both too high-pitched and too deep. Where there should have been a wound, there's absolutely no hole in the skin or the clothes, but a strong, heady smell of dried flowers springs from it.

Melanie no longer has any pockets, so she keeps the knives in her hands, let them soak in her blood.

"You're still very human," Helen says to Melanie with a static kiss on her forehead. "For one of us, you know," and Melanie feels a new anger at this, but she's not sure whether it's because it's true, or because it's a lie.


End file.
